Peer through the lens to see the organisms that for years have wriggled and wiggled through the bloodstream of the Birmingham area.

Oops. I looked. Now I don't feel so good.

The government claims Katopodis used his political connections to steer a million public dollars to Computer Help for Kids, a beneficent-sounding charity that became his personal candy jar.

It was an easy sell, I guess. The non-profit, after all, was founded by Richard Scrushy, Larry Langford and Katopodis. Back before any of them were indicted.

And it became a juicy, juicy slush fund.

But I'm not asking you to think about the juiciest stuff prosecutors are pitching, like the Computer Help for Kids bank card that racked up charges at Harrah's casino in New Orleans and the Silver Star in Mississippi. Don't dwell on the trips to Egypt or the Bahamas, or how prosecutors have already mentioned the name of Mark Anthony Donais, the former porn star -- and computers-for-kids part-timer -- known as Ryan Idol.

Think of this trial, instead, as a lesson. For all of us.

For what we have in the Katopodis trial, as outlined in the government's claims, is the tried-and-true Birmingham corruption scam. It goes like this: Start a non-profit and give it a worthy name -- preferably something about children or race relations. Then beg money from local governments. Stick some in your pocket, and use the rest to keep the politicians who gave it to you in power.

It happens all the time.

But Computer Help for Kids was more special than most. It generated big money with its big names.

Scrushy. Langford. Katopodis. Just call it Birmingham's Sad Lexicon, because it's as deadly a combination as Tinker to Evers to Chance.

The charity got $200,000 from the city of Birmingham and $800,000 from Jefferson County. Indicted former Commission President Gary White signed some of the checks, as did current President Bettye Fine Collins. But county contributions soared to $150,000 in a single year when Langford was boss.

That Langford would give public money to a non-profit he helped to found is one of those things that would boggle the mind, if you weren't numb to it. If you weren't from around here.

But it is clearly a problem. Especially in light of one of the many Computer Help for kids checks prosecutors flashed this week.

It was a $4,800 check, written to a Mississippi discount store called Hudson's Dirt Cheap. On the "for" line, the check said this:

"TV Langford."

And the wiggling, wriggling goes on.

But no matter the outcome of this trial, or that of the mayor later this year as he deals with his own set of problems, we can at least take heart in our lesson learned.

If something sounds too good to be true -- even if it is a sweet-sounding non-profit -- look at it with a microscope.